


Our Love Throughout

by Honeyeonii



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Its a mystery, M/M, Maybe angst, Maybe fluff, back when i was on my moreid shit, not beta who tf cares, these are all unfinished
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:22:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27494158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honeyeonii/pseuds/Honeyeonii
Summary: all the unfinished moreid i had lying arounddidn’t want to delete but didn’t want them in mynotes anymore
Relationships: Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid
Kudos: 9





	1. Don’t Change the Subject (I’m Heavy on Your Love)

**Author's Note:**

> each chapter is a different unfinished wip 
> 
> twitter @honeyeonii

Your body aches but now is not the time to give up. 

“Are you worried?”  
“About what?”  
“Me being in the field. That I might… freak out, overreact?”

The ceremony was beautiful, Spencer cannot deny that. Everyone’s speeches were elegant and pointed out the best parts of Derek. Spencer did not cry; he would not allow himself to be vulnerable like that. Not with Penelope grabbing onto his arm like it is her lifeline, not with her burying her head into his shoulder as she tries to conceal the sobs escaping her. Spencer not being one for physical touch is doing his best to comfort her, going through his head all the techniques on how to help. A comforting hand on her shoulder, letting her use him as support, so on.  
Spencer wakes in a cold sweat and a kink in his neck. He looks around at the sterile room until his eyes land on Derek. Tubes are coming out of every part of him. His chest rises and falls slowly. He counts the beat of the monitor as he levels himself. The chair creaks as he leans back. He focuses on his breathing until the shrill of his phone breaks his silence.  
“Reid.”  
“We got a case; I need you in the office.” JJ’s voice is soft and quiet, like if she speaks any louder, he might break. He hates how the team is treating him, like a child. He hears the whispers and the concerns. He’s snapped more than once when they purposely give him less work or imply that he isn’t ready for whatever the case is.  
He sighs as he gathers his things and heads for the door. He stops before he reaches, he turns to look back at Derek. Watches the rise and fall of his chest again. Spencer’s not aware he even walked over to Derek’s side; eyes still focused on the breathing. A sign he is alive. A chance he could come out of this. His eyes slide across Derek’s body until it lands on his face. Beaten and bruised but still beautiful. He leans down until his lips are barely against Derek’s. He can feel the small puffs hit his face.  
“I love you.” Spencer lets his words wash over Derek before he places a small kiss on the corner of his mouth. They’re chapped and rough, but Derek is alive and that is all that matter to Spencer. 

Warm liquid slides down his face. The pain is close to unbearable, but he must keep going. Derek is just around the corner and if he can see Derek then nothing else matters. The gun shots were loud, two rapid shots, a pause, another shot followed by silence. Hotch is screaming move.  
Move.  
Move.  
Spencer isn’t sure if the ringing is in his head or an alarm is going off. Everything is too much, and he still can’t see Derek. The warehouse is too dark, too big, too much. Dust fills his nose and throat. He coughs to clear his throat, but that makes everything worse. Spencer feels the dirt and debris coating his entire body and he wants to give up, wants to lay down right where he is, but he fights until he can see Derek, wherever he may be.  
It’s not until he spots Derek on the floor, blood pooling around him, the harsh gasps and the awful guttural sounds being ripped from his throat. He stumbles his way to him, falling at the last step. There’s so much blood Spencer can’t see where the wound is. Or maybe he can’t find it because of the darkness that is slowly creeping across his eyes. He doesn’t let Derek out of his sight until the blackness fully takes over. 

Spencer isn’t sure what is worst, the ungodly beeping or the voices that he knows are whispering about him. He tries to open his eyes, the bright white of the hospital room is too much, it burns his eyes. His body is heavy and it’s hard to move his arms. He tries anyone and he feels someone’s hand cover his.  
“Don’t move.” Spencer lets the soft voice wash over him, even if it’s not the one he wants. The one he dreams of.  
“Derek.” His voice is scratchy and he’s not even sure if he spoke at all.  
“Few rooms over. We’ll talk when you are better, go back to sleep.” A different voice this time, but just as soft and calming.  
It’s not what he wants to hear though. He wants to know where Derek is, how is Derek doing, what happened to Derek, but he’s too tired to voice any of these concerns. A small groan escapes his lips, chairs are scrapping floors, the beeping has sped up. Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut as the pain comes back,


	2. Our love is (Madness)

Morgan hears the door slam before he reaches it. Reid is on the other side of the clear glass, pushing his hair back, a habit he does when he is nervous. Morgan stares at him, confused, begging for Reid to open the door. Reid wants to cry, he has messed up big time, and has no one to blame but himself. All he can do is apologize to Morgan as he glances down at the broken vial on the ground. The quick glance captures Morgan’s attention and he finally understands. Morgan’s heart is pounding, his hands are sweaty. He sees the pained expression on Reid’s face, and it takes everything in him to not break down the door right there. 

In the end, Reid should consider himself lucky. They found an anecdote for the anthrax and he would be better in a few days. And there was Morgan, resting in the stiff hospital chair, eating jello that he didn’t actually like, but it reminded Morgan of Reid and that is all that matters. Morgan was the first person Reid saw when he woke up and Reid felt his heart constrict.   
‘Morgan is beautiful,’ Reid thought, looking at him, bags under his eyes, and his eyebrows drawn together, staring emptily at his jello. But, seeing Morgan’s face light up when Reid finally spoke, it was like seeing the sun after days of rain. 

Morgan scoots his chair closer to Reid’s bed. He feels the weight of Morgan’s hand on his, his thumb rubbing small circles. His hands are big, calloused, but warm in Reid’s cold and bony ones. Morgan’s smile drops from his face as he whispers to Reid how worried he was, but how thankful that he is okay. He sees Morgan sit up from his chair, slowly coming towards Reid, his lips brush the side of Reid’s mouth, a pause, then Reid feels Morgan properly kiss him. It is sweet and gentle, but he finds himself struggling to return it. 

The words pierced Reid like a bullet. It ripped through his clothes and skin, leaving nothing but pain in its wake. He could feel the imaginary blood blossoming across his chest, each drop of blood representing each word Morgan spoke. Seventeen words, 66 characters, and it only took a few seconds to say, one moment to think them. 

Reid really can’t blame Morgan. He wasn’t even supposed to be in there, watching Morgan interrogate their most recent unsub. One half of a duo who have been kidnapping young girls in some Florida community. Morgan has been at him all day and not once has this unsub let anything slip. Lucky for them, they found the online love notes he was writing to his partner, someone they have yet to catch. So, of course Reid can’t be mad at Morgan. He is doing his job, getting under the man’s skin. Morgan didn’t say those words to hurt Reid, but maybe Reid didn’t have a reason to be upset. 

“You’re right, I have absolutely no idea what it’s like to be in love with another man.” Morgan’s voice calm and steady as he talks. His gaze intense, like the unsub will break by the pure anger in Morgan’s eyes.

Reid forces himself to look away from the room they are in. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Rossi walk towards him. Wanting to avoid one of Rossi’s speeches, he books it back into the main room, mumbling he’s going to work more on the notes. They both know it’s a lie, but Rossi does nothing to stop him. Reid silently thanks him for letting him be.

The air in the police station is hot and thick. It clouds Reid’s already hazy mind. He lets his head rest on the cool table, his thoughts hanging onto every word Morgan just said. He had no right to be upset. Morgan and he could never be a thing, would never be a thing. Reid is, well, Reid. He is tall and gangly, too many facts and statistics, too emotionally unavailable. Morgan is strong and calm, kind and caring, everything Reid wants to be. Reid can’t stop the pain in his chest, though.

The case is wrapped up and the team is on the plan within the next hour, ready to be in the comfort of their own homes, to sleep in their own beds. Everyone is engaged in their own ways, just enjoying the peace and quiet fo the jet. Morgan takes a seat across from Reid, throwing down a pair of cards.

“Quick game?” Morgan asked with the raise of his eyebrow.

Reid studies him, calm and tired, but happy. Reid glares at Morgan, still hurting from what he overheard. A quick glance at the card pack and back up to Morgan’s face. The smile has dropped to a frown.

“What’s the matter, Reid? Talk to me.” His voice is soft, filled with concern.

‘I’m fine, just tired.” Reid answers before going back to his book that is perched on his lap. He misses the hurt that crosses Morgan face.


End file.
